


AKA Now and Then

by prinkes



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:06:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prinkes/pseuds/prinkes
Summary: Largely an excuse to be artsy. A quick drabble, comparing Jessica's nights now and her nights with Kilgrave. The similarities and the differences.





	AKA Now and Then

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as part of a Tumblr RP blog.

She was happy-drunk, clad in only a tank top and jeans when she hit the bed. Collapsing into the smell of two-week old sheets, and missing the only pillow. She was within reach of all three blankets though. The wool one she’d stolen from Trish’s apartment, maroon and thick and warm, but too itchy to lay across her skin directly. Then there was the long, white fleece she’d gotten for Christmas her senior year, threadbare and worn now. She’d asked for it mostly to piss Dorothy off, but it was the best blanket she’d ever had. And the light brown throw. Her mom’s. She pulled them all close, layering them over her one by one, until she felt the weight of them pressing her into the mattress. The warmth made her feel almost dizzy.

* * *

  _She wasn’t laying sprawled on top of a king-sized bed. The Fleur-Di-Lis patterned bedspread stretching out beneath her – ‘the height of fashion’ the brochure claimed. ‘Let me be the judge of that,’ he’d said. The open window sent a breeze through the room, brushing the silk lingerie against her bare thighs. The cool satin fabric didn’t do much to warm her up. His fingers were icy cold when they stroked her arm._

* * *

 She was thinking about how alone she was. But the good kind of alone, the quiet, restful kind. She’d never been Trish, she’d never needed people. Sometimes, she just needed to sit in a dark room, and just breathe. Or drink. Or cry, or do nothing, sometimes she just needed to exist without anyone looking at her.

* * *

  _She wasn’t feeling his eyes on her. The burning sensation that his gaze left behind, turning her skin into a match. The smallest amount of friction would light her on fire. But his fingers were already trailing softly down her arm, as he loomed over her, still wearing his suit-vest and tie. ‘Make yourself pretty and wait for me,’ he’d said, pressing the box into her hands. He pushed the box out of the way now, so he could lay beside her, his body pressed against hers._

* * *

 She was moving, rolling under her blanket-cocoon. It was quiet, not outside where brakes squealed and people shouted and cats cried, but in here. Where nothing was louder than the rustling of her blankets, or the pounding of her heart as it banged against her ribcage. Just a little too fast, a little too hard, a little painful against her still-healing ribs. But the sound was comforting, the swishing whisper of her racing pulse.

* * *

  _She wasn’t listening to his voice, low and husky. Breathlessly panting against her neck while whispering in her ear. ‘You want it, oh yes.’ The words rumbled through her, vibrated through every inch of her body, shaking her bones until she was sure they would crumble into dust. Even when he rolled on top of her, she didn’t move. She couldn’t._

* * *

 She was here. In the present. The blocky, newsprint letters of her alarm clock ticked away in the right direction, never hesitating. Every second she watched them was another second she moved forward. Another second away from the last time he touched her.

* * *

  _She wasn’t wrapped up in his arms afterwards. Her back against his bare chest. Still cold, clammy from the sweat. His heavy arms draped over her while he slept, dead weight pressed against her neck. It was hard to breathe. Hard to see. The room was oppressively dark, and the night crawled by slowly. Sometimes she swore time had stopped entirely, that she would be trapped in this moment forever and a goddamn day._


End file.
